


bite the hand that needs you

by clicheusername5678



Series: Magicatra AU [2]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Horde Adora, Magicatra AU, catra is she-ra, like it's just sad y'all, s1e11 Promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24679492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clicheusername5678/pseuds/clicheusername5678
Summary: promise but it's the magicatra authis fic was requested on twitter in support of the los angeles bail project
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: Magicatra AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1758634
Comments: 14
Kudos: 209





	bite the hand that needs you

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was requested by @jaseyinacup on twitter in support of the los angeles bail project. if you're interested in requesting a fic and donating , please see:  
> https://twitter.com/forestfigment/status/1267078818147323904?s=20  
> if you're not on twitter but you'd like to donate, please comment on this fic and i will reach out. thanks, stay safe, and stay well!

_Here's the best part distilled for you_ _  
But you want what I can't give to you  
Your hands are gravity while my hands are tied  
I can't love you how you want me to_

\- Bite The Hand, boygenius

* * *

“You promise?” asks Catra’s tiny voice, Adora watching the memory from behind. There they are, six or seven years old, holding each other in the Horde barracks. Catra and Adora—the unbreakable pair.

Adora takes a deep breath, already knowing what comes next. “I promise,” she says in unison with her younger self. The two familiar children pass her by as they head towards the corridor.

Left alone in the eerie simulated space, Adora blinks the tears from her eyes. What did she _do_ to Catra, all those years growing up by her side? She protected her, comforted her, held her tighter than anyone else. She knew Catra needed her, and in her own moments of weakness Adora trusted Catra to understand.

Now, every time they meet, Catra tries to justify leaving the Horde. She tells Adora to sabotage her own life’s work and defect, like it’d be easy. As the memories replay in Adora’s mind—Catra’s abuse from Shadow Weaver, frustration with being second-best—she realizes why it was so easy for Catra to go: Nothing was keeping here there in the first place. Not a bright future, not a loving mentor, and apparently not even Adora herself was enough to make Catra stay. So of _course_ she left. And she’d never be convinced to return.

At least now, for the first time in their lives, Catra and Adora are on even ground. Catra has made it very clear that she no longer needs Adora, and although this seemed like an insult at first, it’s actually quite freeing. Ever since Catra left, Adora’s self-declared mission has been to convince her to return, her attacks less combative than persuasive—now, things are much simpler.

Catra has forgotten that she is Adora’s responsibility. That, or she’s just flat-out ignoring the gaping hole in her life Adora once filled. To accept anything else is contrary to everything Adora knows about her former best friend.

She doesn’t _need_ to convince Catra that she belongs in the Horde. It’s only a matter of time before she remembers on her own, by failing as She-Ra, upsetting her new friends, or rejecting her connection to the Magicats. Once she’s tired enough, she’ll _willingly_ return to Adora’s side, wrapped in a blanket, sobbing.

So the mission is no longer to convince Catra. It isn’t to hurt her, either, despite Shadow Weaver’s commands. Adora simply needs to see to her failure until she’s _begging_ the Force Captain for forgiveness.

And of course she’ll be forgiven. She’ll be strong, and successful, and happy by Adora’s side… just as they’d always planned. They look out for each other, and they always will. Adora isn’t breaking her promise.

If Shadow Weaver has a problem, Adora will strike her down. If even Hordak himself rejects Catra’s re-enlistment, Adora will dethrone him. She _isn’t_ breaking her promise.

And Catra will care for Adora, like she always has, making her feel wanted and loved for the person she is rather than the things she can do. _She isn’t breaking her promise_.

This lengthy moment of clarity lasts only seconds in the Crystal Castle’s altered state. Adora finds herself staring down a cliff, watching Catra cling onto a ledge above a voidlike ravine. It can’t be fatal, Adora immediately reasons—why would Catra’s magical castle kill its own administrator?

“Adora!” Catra cries, her voice fearful and ragged. “Come on, help me up!”

The relieved smile on Catra’s face confirms Adora’s expectation: she has no idea the mission has changed.

“You know, Catra,” Adora says slowly, “you’re actually right.”

“Glad to hear it, but can we have this conversation when I’m _not_ in mortal peril?”

“You don’t need me anymore,” Adora repeats Catra’s new favorite declaration. “I never believed you until now. Went so easy on you and your Rebellion allies…when I could have destroyed you all ten times over.”

“Adora,” Catra’s voice catches, “ _please_ help me.”

“Admit you need me, then. Admit that it’s us, together, no matter what they do. _Promise_ , Catra.”

A tear rolls down the dangling girl’s cheek. “I… I can’t.”

Adora shrugs, stepping back from the cliff’s edge. “Then why would I ever help my enemy? You’re as good as a stranger to me now.”

“No, wait, don’t—”

“Oh, stop whining,” Adora scowls, swallowing her own discomfort with Catra’s agonized expression. “You’re not going to die. This whole castle is rigged up to your convenience, isn’t it, Princess?”

Catra hiccups and gives a small nod. Adora wants to save her. She wants to lift her up, take her in her arms, and never let her go again. She wants, she wants, she wants.

But Adora isn’t _allowed_ to want. She’s never been. And wanting Catra, even for a moment in the dead of night… well, it’s gotten her nowhere good. 

“Adora,” Catra whimpers like a wounded animal. “Please don’t leave me.”

Adora gives her one last pitiful stare. If she was Catra, she’d have a biting final response locked and loaded—but in that department, _she’s_ always been second-best.

She says nothing, turns sharply on her heel, and retreats. 


End file.
